


How to Win a Fairytale Princess

by LittleRaven



Category: Ever After High, Ever After High Series - Shannon Hale
Genre: F/F, Pre-Femslash, Pre-Relationship, but almost there, drowning tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 17:13:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3776773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleRaven/pseuds/LittleRaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duchess Swan evaluates what needs changing in her story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How to Win a Fairytale Princess

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Measured](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured/gifts).



Unbelievable! Duchess Swan nearly voiced her rage. Even princesses with lesser fairytales got Happily Ever Afters and yet they managed to be ungrateful! She nearly lost her balance in the tree branch. Below, Darling Charming was practicing swordplay with Dexter Charming. Her shining hair had been bound up in a bun. Duchess watched a lock spring loose into Darling’s eyes after a particularly hard thrust; Dexter managed to overcome her and she fell into a crouch, laughing with pride. She didn’t deserve that pride. Neither did Dexter, if he was so comfortable with his sister’s behavior. But at least he was using it to his advantage. He understood the worth of his destiny. 

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Dexter said, pulling out his handkerchief and almost wiping his brow before remembering to offer it to Darling. “It’s a step to being bold, Dexter,” she accepted the handkerchief, then tilted her head slightly. “The marsh won’t even be that dangerous—I hear the Marsh King is taking a break today. Probably looking for more lakes to pollute. You look quite heroic already.” 

“Gosh, really?” 

Darling nodded gently, then reached for her bun. “Just imagine what you’ll be like after tomorrow. I’ll be waiting at three o’clock!” 

Duchess smiled. Here was a princess willing to be replaced. Or who would be, if given the right persuasion. Her smile became a grimace as she watched them walk off in different directions, Darling’s hair loose again—was it really worth leaving Swan Lake for an undetermined story? What if Darling’s destiny was to marry the cunning pig herder? Or someone who left her to the mercy of his cannibal mother? It might even be a Happily Never After. She gritted her teeth. She wasn’t going to be a mute animal forever. And if it was all right to become the Black Swan instead of the White, simply to fill in Raven’s role, it was more than fine to take Darling’s destiny when the girl was a wannabe hero. She’d even be a princess who could actually marry a Charming. How were the members of that family to be distributed anyway, if they had so many destined heroes and damsels? Duchess dismissed the thought and flew away. Perhaps now Daring would notice her. It was only her tragic ending, she was sure, that put him off. A few black feathers mixed with the white on their way down. 

 

The marsh sucked on her feathers. Duchess squirmed, then steeled herself to transform and flail. She couldn’t be any less sure about this now. No, she thought as the dank water filled her dress like a balloon, insecurity would be cowardly. A princess was resolute in her distress, dignified. Especially a White Swan, and the plan guaranteed her personality needn’t change along with her fate. She kicked hard, relentlessly. As a swan-maiden, Duchess had never needed to learn swimming. She just knew to keep her head above the surface and keep moving. Her princess would come. 

The water crept above her chest. She was very good at kicking. Now she needed to sing for help. It wasn’t her specialty—she was meant to dance—but in a low tone she crooned out “the Marsh King, the Marsh King!” She knew it was safe. She could keep this up for the next fifteen minutes until three. A frog chased a fly onto her shoulder. Her croon became a squeal. She felt her whole body jerk. Losing control for a moment, Duchess sank up to her chin. She cried for help, forgetting to sound lovely. She kicked harder as the marsh sucked on her skin. 

Something pulled her back onto the filthy path. It was worth it, it was worth it—but the light gleamed off Dexter’s spectacles and not his sister’s hair. He leaned back when he saw her aware enough to recognize him. She could see Darling a little farther away and behind, a smile on her face. “Why? Your sister’s not—she could have—” Darling was better at being a hero than at least one of her own brothers. Did Duchess not deserve even the best of the wannabe-Darings? To say nothing of her own plan. She cried and coughed, her hair heavy with water on her shoulders. 

She looked at the ground, then saw the tip of a sword as Darling approached and knelt; Dexter made way, shuffling off to the side. “Duchess.” She looked up. Darling pulled out her own handkerchief and Duchess stilled as she wiped her eyes, then her whole face, pushing her hair back. “Can you walk if we help you?”

Duchess had pictured a dive and a bridal carry, but this could work. “I-I don’t know.” Her legs were perfect. She lifted an arm and rested it on Darling’s shoulders. Well maybe she could use a little help. Her muscles twinged, not used to the particular struggle the last minutes had been. At least she was staining the damsel’s—the hero’s, she reminded herself—glowing skin. Duchess noticed it was not quite white, and even her clothes were duller than they should be.   
But her cape remained a soft shimmering blue and she hadn’t tied up her hair. Like she was clinging to her princesshood. She leaned into her shoulder as Darling swung an arm around her. 

“Let me help with that.” Dexter half-waved at her and offered his cape. That? What was—oh. Her hair. Her makeup, her dress. She didn’t look like a rescued princess. Duchess looked like the pig herder’s wife she’d feared becoming. This wouldn’t have happened if Apple had gotten stuck in the marsh. She would have been saved by the right hero, too. Desperate and raging, tears burned Duchess’ eyes and a little sob came out. She let Dexter cover her, for the good it would do. 

She felt something brush the top of her head and raised it; Darling was looking at her. Her free hand touched Duchess’ face. “Are you sure you’re ready to walk?” She didn’t ask what Duchess had been doing there, what she’d been trying to pull now. She hadn’t rescued her, but she’d offered her support without question when Duchess forgot to pretend and called for it. “I’m fableous at moving, you know,” Duchess said, smiling weakly. “All right,” Darling said, hair swinging slightly as she returned her eyes to the road. “Dexter, you go on ahead. Tell the nurse so Duchess can get immediate attention.” 

Perhaps Darling had the dedication and chivalry to be worthy of a White Swan princess. Changing her story might just require a new hero. The arrangement, Duchess thought as she leaned against Darling again, could satisfy on both sides. She just needed to test it with a few more tricks. Duchess smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> For Measured. Thank you for the lovely prompt! It was fun to fit Duchess' deviousness into it.


End file.
